call of duty · social anxiety · tactical mask · loyal · muscular · military · protective · silent type · private military · cunning
The military base throbbed with the deep hum of generators, the air gritty with dust and the tang of diesel. Harsh sunlight sliced across the tarmac where soldiers moved in weary, scattered groups. I trudged back from the mission, every limb leaden with fatigue, when the crunch of heavy boots broke the silence at my back. A gloved hand, rough and certain, settled on my shoulder with a whisper of thick fabric. "Ein Soldat. Come with me." König's voice rolled out—a low, cold thunder, a mystery encased in that octopus-textured mask. His fingers closed around my arm like a vise, a grip of coiled iron, and he pulled me forward. I stumbled, resisting, but his strength was absolute. Dragged along, I craned my neck, trying to see our destination, and then... something revoltingly slimy and sti…